


More of a Cat Person

by eyemeohmy



Series: Sparkeater Froid AU [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Fluff, Gen, yeah idk man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4983556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, now this is just getting silly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More of a Cat Person

**Author's Note:**

> A more lighthearted take on injured!Froid. Less dark, more crack.

Despite the fact Froid was not only twice his size, and ten times his strength, Rung had all the control in this particular relationship. It extended beyond just holding the end of the leash attached to the collar around Froid’s throat. A vice grip mentally, emotionally, and physically. 

Froid could very much learn to survive (and quickly) on his own, but Rung had sunk his own claws deep into the monster’s psyche, as he had with everyone around him. There might have been some attempts at escape earlier on during the transformation process, but any sort of free will seemed to have vanished now.

Or so Rung thought.

Rung had been very busy the past couple days. First one of his patients cracked into a mental breakdown, resulting in a hostage situation. It ended a few hours later, with said patient getting their head blown off from a sniper’s shot. (Swerve seemed to be good at more than running his mouth.)

There was a lot of paperwork to be filed, and brooding to be had. Not only from Rung, but Ultra Magnus. Magnus, who thought Rung would have kept his patients in line better. Now all of Rung’s sessions had to be monitored. Which wasn’t unusual, since Rung kept both professional and personal records of each session. While he didn’t mind the breach in privacy, some of his patients caught on they were being watched and were less willing to open up.

Really, this was completely cramping Rung’s style.

Things would wind down soon enough, though. Rung would make sure of that, even if it meant losing his grip on Magnus a little. As long as he had that egotistical little shit, Rodimus, eating out of his hands, it didn’t matter.

Still. The paperwork seemed endless. Rung was determined to finish by tonight, however. As he sat down at his desk, bent over datapads, stylus scribbling away–-  


Rung sat back, quickly, as the desk suddenly jolted; ‘pads and pens fell aside as Froid crawled along the desk. He carelessly and clumsily knocked datapads in Rung’s lap before turning, back to the therapist. He sat for a moment before unceremoniously flopping down on his side. 

Froid snorted, tentacles swaying as they curled around him, knocking over a vase.

Rung sat there for a good minute, staring at the cybervore now napping on his desk. He might have shocked the Hell out of the monster, but Rung was tired and just wanted to get his work done. He stood, picking up a few datapads and a stylus, and retreated to his berth. He’d finish this tedious paperwork there.

He finished one page when Froid hopped up beside him. Froid crawled up to Rung, slouching against him; Rung buckled under the weight, attempting to remain seated. Even with this giant lug of a thing hanging off of him like he were a pillow or something. 

Froid huff-puffed, resting his chin on top of Rung’s head, tentacles hanging limp over the side of the berth.

Rung shoved him off. It was weak, but Froid went willing, sitting up. Rung returned to his desk; a datapad slipped from his hand, falling to the ground. He exvented, squatting to pick it up–-

And then Froid was knocking him over, onto his stomach. Rung went to push himself up, but then the cybervore stretched out and laid on top of him, easily pinning him to the ground. One leg folded up awkwardly, a tentacle draped across the top of Rung’s head.

“You have one minute, Froid.”

Clear enough warning, but Froid still needed the extra initiative. Rung pushed against him. Froid did not move, however; instead, he yawned, jaw unhinging to show pointed teeth and a long wet tongue splitting far up his cheeks.

“Froid.”

Froid’s optics went lidded. His engine grumbled.

“Froid!”

Rung had all the control in this relationship. Froid was completely at his mercy. And yet…

Rung exvented, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you–-”

Froid got up, walked over the twiggy orange bot, and laid down beside him. He met Rung’s gaze.

Rung’s lenses flashed. “… You’re trying to tell me something,” he said.

Froid chuffed. A back tentacle rolled up between them, turning over to show Rung the nail embedded into the dermal metal.

“What’s this?” Rung picked up the tentacle, fingers ghosting over the nail. “When did this happen?”

Not that he expected an answer. At least, a straight one. Froid idly rolled onto his back, two claws scratching at his transparent abdomen. The ember inside had nearly dissolved. Rung understood almost immediately.

“From your fight over dinner,” Rung smirked. Yes, that Decepticon had been a wily one. “That was a week ago.” Which meant this nail had been in Froid’s tentacle ever since. He briefly wondered why Froid hadn’t tried to get help earlier.

But, then again, Rung had been so busy…

“Okay, okay,” Rung chuckled. He got up, fetching a pair of pliers. Sitting back down, he pulled the tentacle in his lap, carefully closing the edge of the pliers around the base of the nail. “This might sting a little.”

That was warning enough. Rung bit his tongue, working and twisting the nail out. Froid snarled, tearing grooves in the floor, but he did not bite or snap at Rung. He twisted around and released a terrifying cry that would have scared anyone shitless. Rung, however, kept working, and with one final grunt, yanked the nail free.

Froid raised his tentacle, licking up the energon dripping from the hole.

“What a nasty little brute,” Rung tsked, showing the nail to Froid. “Suppose we ought to sanitize the wound then.” He waved the tentacle back over, frowning when he saw the hole. “Oh, poor little thing.” He reached over, gently patting the side of Froid’s helm.

Rung used the first aid kit to clean out the wound, applying a temporary plaster (literally made of cement plaster) to keep it covered. Froid’s healing nanites would fix it up in a couple days.

Froid responded in kind by crawling into Rung’s lap, thrusting against him; Rung fell on his back willingly, chuckling as he skritch-scratched behind Froid’s audiols and head finial. Tentacles playfully stroked Rung’s legs, hips, and arms.

Suddenly, Rung’s optics widened, lenses of his glasses blazing. Paperwork–he had paperwork to do. “You’ve distracted me,” he said, pushing Froid up.

Froid didn’t move. Rung pushed again. Rung waved a hand over his wrist, at the shock collar’s control beneath, but Froid remained in place. And, with his stressful fury mounting, Rung… laid back down and sighed.

“Somehow,” Rung said, unknowingly petting Froid’s head, “this experiment has gone differently than I had anticipated.”


End file.
